


King

by Zoni



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-15 06:58:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18068741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoni/pseuds/Zoni
Summary: Ciel wakes in the night to discover Sebastian playing a peculiar game of chess.





	King

                Perfect stillness enveloped the bedroom as Ciel Phantomhive blinked awake in the dead of night. Everything was as it should have been; the coals of a dying fire glowed low in the hearth and thick curtains blocked even the faint starlight from entering the room and disturbing the atmosphere within. Safety was beyond measure in the carefully guided confines of the Phantomhive master suite, and yet something was amiss. Without the slightest sound or indication, Ciel knew that he was not alone.

                Seated ten feet away, Sebastian was seated at the ornate Indian chess table that the previous Earl Phantomhive had imported years before. Though the game board had been reduced to ashes in the fire, it stood unblemished in the shadows that chased themselves around the room. In front of the demon, chess pieces were scattered across the squares in an indecipherable pattern thoroughly at odds with the traditional rules of the game. The image was something out of a painting by one of the old masters, with neither the butler nor his pawns moving in the slightest.

                This late-night pastiche was a familiar sight. On nights when dreams were filled with the scent of burning flesh and thoughts of darkened, damp hallways below mansions, Ciel often awoke to find his servant occupied with games of his own creation. At some point, this had become a game until itself. The young earl would never interrupt or question what he saw, and the demon never acknowledged his audience.

                Sliding to the edge of the bed, Ciel let his feet hang free in the darkness as he observed the current state of affairs playing out in the pieces on the board. The black king stood alone at the center, facing imminent danger alone. Surrounded by the white army, he would be unable to defend himself from the pawns, bishops, rooks and the all-powerful white queen that had him at their mercy.

Chess in pieces, but not in placement. These were not the actions of a game conceived to mimic armies. They were a portrait of something far less distant; this was an illustration of Ciel’s daily life, evident even through the dim light of the dying fire.

                But something was out of place.

                Curiosity won.

                "What are you doing?" Ciel demanded, sliding to the floor to approach the table.

                There was no look of surprise or amusement, no palpable reaction from Sebastian as the boy approached. Instead, only his lips moved to give an informed response. "I am playing chess, young master. I would hope that much would be obvious to you."

                "This isn't chess." Bare feet on chilled wood that is left uncovered by rugs took the fastest route to the empty chair opposite the butler. From the closer vantage point, Ciel could inspect the layout of the board in further detail. "You couldn't get the pieces like this in a regulation game if you tried."

                The first reaction of the night was a smile, small and almost imperceptible on Sebastian's lips. "Is that so?"

                "Yes."

                "I beg to differ."

                Inspecting the board once more, the young earl knew that the configuration of the pieces was impossible. Glancing from piece to piece, he knew with certainty that this wasn't a game that could have been won. This wasn't a game that could have been allowed to reach the point at which it had arrived.

                "Differ all you like, Sebastian," he said, "but this isn't chess. The king would have been killed off and the game over ages ago."

                "And yet, he remains."

                Silence, the only fitting reply to the butler's statement.

                When Ciel offered no response, Sebastian then asked, "Young master, do you believe me to be capable of anything?"

                "Yes," Ciel responded bluntly. "At least, everything I require. Is that you as the king then?"

                "The king is useless," came the equally blunt response. "If I did not know better, I would think my young master was trying to offer offense."

                "The king decides everything." Shifting in his chair, Ciel looked at the pieces, still trying to discover some hidden meaning within their placements. "If you lose the king, you lose everything."

                The mistake came when the boy glanced up to find that the butler's attention was no longer focused on the chess pieces. With warm, brown eyes and the unreadable smile, Sebastian looked utterly human in the light from the coals. The only flaw in his false form was in its perfection; there was not a single hair out of place, no hint of the start of age lines or damage from time spent in the sun when the servants needed assistance out of doors. He was an imitation of life, and he had rarely seemed more dangerous than he did in that moment.

                "Do you know what this board represents?" Sebastian asked, unaware of the effect he had on his charge. He gestured broadly with one gloved hand to indicate the pieces in front of him. The conversation had moved past any pretense of the game as it should have been played.

                "This household."

                The smile on the butler's lips widened. "Not quite, young master. That would be inaccurate."

                "Then what?"

                "You," Sebastian said simply. Gesturing towards the black king in the center of the board, he said, "This is an appropriate representation of yourself. You control a kingdom of servants and pawns, and yet you have no power of your own. No matter how many times I have played this game through to this exact ending, I find myself unable to comprehend how you have survived all the many pieces around you. Your enemies - the bishops, rooks, pawns, and even the Queen herself - pose a threat to you, and yet you endure."

                For Ciel Phantomhive, the answer to Sebastian's question was a simple matter. After all, their contract ensured his safety; that was the very nature of Sebastian's presence at his side, at least until the terms were fulfilled. In his view, Sebastian was perhaps not omnipotent, but certainly close to infallible. To hear the demon speak of confusion was unsettling at best.

                "Explain," Ciel commanded.

                Rather than speaking, Sebastian's response was to sweep an arm across the board. Pieces tumbled to the floor with a soft tempo. In an instant, the black king had been replaced at the center of the board.

                "You," Sebastian explained, "in all of your independence."

                Two white pawns were placed on the board next, one close to the king and the other at a far corner. "These are the reapers we sometimes encounter." A rook was placed centrally to the pawns, four paces from the king, neither an ever-present threat nor a distant non-entity. "Our friend, the Undertaker."

                Watching without comment, Ciel shifted uneasily in his seat as his world was recreated in miniature along the squares.

                More pawns were peppered onto the board. "Those who destroyed your family and yourself, adding humiliation to murder."

                Ciel leaned forward, frowning at the demon's choice. "Pawns for them?"

                "Have they ever proven themselves more?" Sebastian asked quietly. "For all your many trials and tribulations, that which caused you so much strife is surprisingly insignificant when you consider your life as a whole."

                The words were a challenge, highlighting and condemning the very situation that had united them in a single statement. As offensive as the concept appeared, the words were not incorrect.

                Irritated, but without appropriate recourse, Ciel could only have one response. "Continue."

                "The other associates you have in the darker moments of your work, the evil noblemen," Sebastian told him, carefully placing a bishop and a rook. Another pawn was added, followed swiftly by a knight directly at its side. "Prince Soma and the ever-vigilant Agni."

                Every other addition made sense, but Sebastian was still using the white pieces. Frowning sharply, Ciel interrupted. "They aren't my enemies."

                "The very tasks you are given by Queen Victoria," Sebastian continued, ignoring the interruption. He placed the second bishop on an empty space, directly within the line of fire of the black king. A knight joined that bishop directly after. "And the well-meaning Chief Inspector Abberline."

                "You think these people are against me?" Ciel challenged. "Abberline is harmless. And as for my duties to the Queen, she has no interest in doing something that would damage my ability to work for her."

                Sebastian turned a calm stare at the boy. What had seemed an ordinary gaze before now held some hint of menace, his eyes no longer a calm brown so much as something closer to dried blood. There was a sinister glow behind them, the only hint that his thoughts were anything less than pleasant. He placed the last of the white pawns, not bothering to look at where they landed. "Your staff, the indefatigable Bard, MeyRin, and Finny. And, of course, Tanaka."

                "Sebastian," Ciel said darkly, "your insistence on using our allies as part of your equation is essentially flawed."

                "Is it?" The demon regarded him evenly. "Young master, for every goal you set out to achieve, these very people are the tools you will use to reach success. All these allies you place your faith in so easily are nothing more than advantages to be exploited for your own good. And they, of their own accord, may harm or hamper your efforts without even desiring to do so. How often have they proved to be obstacles in your way? How often has Bard damaged your home in his quest to fix lunch? How often has the Chief Inspector, with his inability to keep his nose firmly planted in his own affairs, delayed an investigation into a murder? Even your own family cannot be held faultless. If you do not recall the difficulties involving Madame R--"

                "Enough," Ciel cut in. "You've made your point."

                The interruption did nothing to dampen the smile on Sebastian's lips. "Do you still not understand?"

                "Where are you in all of this, then?" Ciel asked, avoiding the question.

                "I would think that was obvious, young master," Sebastian murmured. "I remain exactly where I have always been."

                The last piece, the white queen, was placed directly behind the black king. Checkmate in all but action.

                Behind a haze of dark hair, the seal of the contract glowed dimly in Ciel's eye as he studied the configuration of the pieces. "Are you saying that you will betray me, Sebastian?"

                The butler's smirk widened fractionally. "Of course not. That is part of our contract, is it not? You have ordered me to never betray you, lie to you, or leave your side. I am nothing if not loyal to you and the terms of our agreement."

                "Then shouldn't you be the black queen?"

                "No."

                "No?"

                "As I am bound to my duties, I have faithfully honored each and every provision in our contract, my young master," Sebastian told him softly. "In point of fact, I have exceeded them beyond any reasonable expectation. I am, and shall always remain, your most true and faithful servant until the end. However, young master, take care that you do not forget that the end _will_ come. At that time, which piece do you think might best represent the role I will play?"

                Words could not form an appropriate response. Without waiting for an opening, Ciel took the black king in hand. He struck out, sending a cascade of white pieces tumbling from the edges of the mahogany table. Eyes fixed on Sebastian's face, Ciel lashed out with a final blow, sending the white queen careening off the edge and into the shadows.

                "You're right," Ciel told him.

                "About what, young master?"

                Getting to his feet, the earl left the chess pieces where they were. "They're all pawns. Most of them will never be more than tools to be utilized at the right moment.

                "But if you count yourself among their number, don't complain when the game doesn't end quite the way you had planned."

                Without waiting for a response, the boy turned and made his way back to his bed. In his wake, a perfect silence remained, muting the sounds of life that had started to arise elsewhere in the house. His was a complete confidence that the world was exactly as he dictated. Though only moments had passed, he did not need to look to know that Sebastian had already cleaned up the chess board, straightened the chairs and made the room ready for the day. Their conversation concluded, the butler would have other matters to handle.

                Safe and secure in his bed once more, he registered only vague surprise when a presence stood by his bed a moment later.

                "What is it, Sebastian?" he asked.

                "A word, if I might.”

                Ciel turned to look at him, a shadow against shadows now that the firelight was nearly gone. "Go ahead."

                "You have made an excellent point, young master," Sebastian commended him. "Your directness is admirable. However, I am left to wonder about one thing. What would you do if the ending I desire is not the one you so feverishly envision?"

                The deceptively simple words held a complex meaning. At the same time, they made little sense. Their contract held only one possible outcome, one to which Ciel had agreed the very moment their bargain was struck. Unable to parse the meaning behind the question, Ciel asked, "What do you mean?"

                Silence, a golden response in the small hours of the morning. Finally, there was the sound of a sigh. "Never mind, young master. I asked only to sate my curiosity. For now, rest. Breakfast will be prepared in an hour and a half."

                Gloved hands settled the blankets higher around Ciel's shoulders, giving a forceful push back toward the land of dreams. Somewhere in the room, there was a dim flicker of light as Sebastian lit a lamp and exited the bedroom, ready to present a guise of normalcy to the rest of the household staff as the day began. Settling back into the sheets, Ciel turned his attention towards matters of rest and postponing the inevitable day ahead.

Only then did he notice the new addition to his nightstand: the black queen, framed by the strings of his own silk eye patch.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, my many thanks to my lovely and talented beta reader, KuroNekoChan.
> 
> This is a redo of a very old fic that was originally worked up for a tutorial under the title of Chess. The tutorial is long gone and the original version of this was bizarre, but I liked the concept and decided to have another go at it. Cheers.


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